


It only hurts when I think

by musicskies (skysthelimit_7)



Series: It only hurts when [1]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo e Giulietta - Ama e Cambia il Mondo, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2791994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysthelimit_7/pseuds/musicskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tybalt and Mercutio are fighting again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It only hurts when I think

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Just another day”, from the musical Next to Normal.  
> Written for the Bencutio Exchange.

 “Ben, wait!”

Benvolio turned around to see Romeo and Juliet running towards him from other side of the hall. Romeo's bag was half-opened and he was trying to hold the things in without letting go of Juliet's hand. Ben fought a smile at the sight and waited for them to catch up with him.

“Are you going to have lunch?” Juliet asked when they reached him.

“Yeah, I've got an hour until my Political Philosophy class,” Benvolio replied.

Romeo made a face – like he did every time Ben talked about his studies – because he thought Philosophy was boring. Benvolio didn't really mind, since Romeo's face was actually pretty funny when he did that. Juliet grinned as well, winking at him.

The three of them started walking again. Romeo told him about the movie Ben had missed the day before because of a paper he'd had to finish; he'd wanted to see it at some point but he guessed it didn't matter anymore because Romeo had just spoiled him the end. He smiled anyway and noticed the way Romeo and Juliet held hands, the way they were able to touch each other now that they were away from their families. Romeo and Juliet had found a small flat next to the uni and had left both their houses to be with each other. It was still in Verona, so they saw their families pretty often, but the University was like a bubble, like another universe where they could be together. Benvolio loved seeing them so happy.

Juliet was telling him about the movie's progressive approach to the female characters when Ben's phone vibrated. He took it out his pocket and glanced at it absent-mindedly. It was a text from Abram: _Tybalt and Merc fighting. In front of the cafeteria._ His heart stopped beating for a moment. This time one of them might get hurt for real if Romeo, Juliet or Benvolio weren't there to stop it.

“What's wrong?” Juliet asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Tybalt and Mercutio are fighting again,” he said, and his voice was shaking with fear.

Juliet sighed and rubbed her eyes for a second before squaring her shoulders. She gave him a questioning glance and he lead the way. When they got there, they had to elbow their way through the crowd because of how many people there were watching the scene.

 

It looked pretty bad. Tybalt was screaming, fists bloody and swollen, throwing himself at Mercutio, who was laughing on the floor. Merc's blond hair was on his face, wet and stained with red; his nose was bleeding so much. Benvolio separated them and tried to stop Tybalt by putting his arms around him, while Romeo did the same with Mercutio. But Tybalt was strong and blind with rage, and he was going to break Benvolio's grip soon. Just then, Juliet ran to him and put her hands on his chest. Tybalt stilled, eyes wide open, looking down at her as if he'd seen an apparition.

“Please stop. You have to stop doing this, Tybalt,” she whispered, her big brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

Everything was quiet except for Tybalt's harsh breathing and Mercutio's crazed laugh. Tybalt's eyes were still locked on Juliet's, his body slowly relaxing against Benvolio's at last.

Then, someone who sounded a lot like Abram yelled:

“The rector is coming!”

Everyone started running around, not wanting to be caught by the rector in the middle of all that mess and get a warning or, worse, suspension from Uni. Tybalt elbowed Benvolio in the ribs and ran away, disappearing into the crowd. Instantly, Benvolio went to Mercutio's side – he didn't seem to be able to stand on his own, so Romeo was holding him up as best as he could.

“Take him home,” Romeo said, handing Mercutio to him. “Juliet and I will try to find Tybalt. Run!”

Benvolio started running as fast as he could with Mercutio's weight on him. Merc himself was not being very helpful: he was half-concious, laughing to himself, putting all his weight on Benvolio and limping. Ben gritted his teeth and kept going, not looking back.

 

They finally got to Benvolio's car. He helped Mercutio into the passenger seat and then got in as well. He rested his forehead on the steering weel and closed his eyes, breathing a few times in a futile attempt to calm himself. It was the third time Mercutio and Tybalt had gotten into a fight this month. The last time it had happened, Merc had been unconcious for half an hour. Ben had been terrified, shaking from head to toe, and when Mercutio had woken up he'd just joked like it was no big deal. Juliet had cried in Ben's arms for hours because it tore her apart to see them fighting. Plus, Mercutio already had a warning from University, which meant that next time they caught him fighting he would be expelled.

Benvolio didn't undersand why Mercutio kept putting himself in danger, why would he sacrifice his health and his studies for this stupid rivalry. He didn't even notice how worried everyone was – or, if he did, he didn't care.

He noticed Mercutio had stopped laughing and glanced at him: he was looking at Ben with a confused expression, as if he didn't know why he was upset. Benvolio sighed and started the car, heading towards Mercutio's new flat on the outskirts of Verona. At least poor Valentine wouldn't be there to see the mess his brother had made of himself this time.

 

He could feel Mercutio's eyes on him the whole time.

* * *

 

Benvolio dropped Mercutio on the couch and went to the toilet. He kind of wanted to just leave and let Mercutio bloody and in pain – maybe he would realize he could get hurt at last – but he knew he would feel bad five minutes later, so he grabbed the first-aid kit and went back to the living room. Mercutio needed a shower to get the blood off his hair, but he didn't look like he could do it alone at the moment, so he just grabbed a rubber band and tied Merc's hair so that it was not in the way.

He started cleaning Mercutio's face: a big bruise was starting to show on his cheek, and his nose – which, thankfully, was not bleeding anymore – was swollen.

“Are you angry?” Mercutio's whisper broke the silence, almost startling Ben.

Benvolio sighed and didn't answer. He checked Merc's leg, since he had been limping since the fight, and he could feel the other man's body tensing in pain. He was going to hurt for a while, but the leg didn't seem broken. Nothing serious, then – Mercutio had been lucky this time. Benvolio sighed and wondered if he should take him to the hospital anyway, but he had the feeling Mercutio wouldn't want to.

“Don't ignore me,” Mercutio's shaky voice broke the silence.

Benvolio looked up without meaning to; Merc's face showed anger, but the uncertain tone of his voice betrayed him. Benvolio could feel his resolve wavering. He closed his eyes to avoid Mercutio's, because he knew he would give in, like he always did. And he had to show Mercutio that his acts had consequences, that people got upset when he did stupid things, or he would never stop until it was too late.

“You deserve it,” Benvolio managed to say, guilt making him feel a lump in his throat.

 

He went to get a glass of water just to get away from there, but Mercutio stood up in a rush after him. His leg wobbled and he grabbed the couch with a pained grunt, digging his nails in the fabric. Benvolio supressed the urge to help him, hands clenched at his sides.

“You're supposed to be on my side!” he screamed. “Tybalt's the one who–”

“No!” Benvolio found himself yelling as well. “I can't support you if you hurt yourself, Mercutio!”

Mercutio was shaking from head to toe, his eyes wide open and red. Benvolio felt his heart clenching; he looked so scared, so vulnerable. He couldn't help but to make a step towards him, noticing the way Mercutio bit his lip to stop it from wobbling.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Ben asked in a whisper.

Mercutio lowered his head and let out a trembling sigh.

“I don't know. I _don't_ _know_.”

Mercutio let go of the couch and his legs gave in. He fell to the floor with a broken sob. Benvolio rushed to his side and put his arms around him; Mercutio grabbed his shirt and hid his face on Ben's neck, his whole body shaking against his. Benvolio held him tighter and wished Merc wouldn't have to feel like this.

 

After a while Mercutio calmed down, his body heavy against Ben's; he seemed to be falling asleep, so Benvolio helped him lay on the couch and sat on the floor next to it, as close to him as he could. Mercutio's breathing was even and calm – Ben reminded himself that he wasn't hurt badly, he was fine, safe and just some inches away from him. And then he started to cry. Relief, fear, anger, frustration or a mix of all, he didn't know.

He was always so worried that Mercutio would do something stupid and get hurt. Sometimes Benvolio wondered if he should ask for help, but he didn't know who to turn to or how Mercutio would react to that. 

He put his hands on his face and tried not to sob too loud.

 

* * *

 

Benvolio felt something caressing his face and opened his eyes. Mercutio's face came into view, bruised but amused, and Ben realized he was drawing something on his face with a pen. He batted his hand away and sat on the couch, flinching in pain because his neck had been in a weird position. Ben didn't have to look in the mirror to know he had a penus on his face now. Perfect. At least it seemed Mercutio was feeling better.

“You have never been more of a dick,” Merc said with a laugh, and Benvolio hit him in the arm, unable to hide a smile.

 

Mercutio gently put a finger on his unmarked cheek, following the dry tear tracks from before. It was as close to an apology as Ben was going to get, and it was more than enough for him. He couldn't help himself and twined his fingers with Mercutio's, keeping his hand on his face. He heard Mercutio hold his breath and looked at him – his eyes were fixed on their hands. His thumb brushed Ben's cheek and his heart jumped in his chest.

“We need to talk about what happened,” Benvolio whispered, breath stuck in his throat as he saw Mercutio slowly getting closer.

“Later?” Merc batted his eyes at him in a ridiculous attempt at pleading. Ben sighed.

Merc's lips were full and red, inviting. His eyes, big and blue, reflected the light of the sun breaking through the window. Only the huge bruise on his cheek kept Benvolio from caressing it. Ben swallowed and tried not to get distracted from the conversation.

“But–”

“Ben, just–” Mercutio interrupted him, closing his eyes and drawing a long breath. “Just not now, okay?”

Benvolio pressed their foreheads together, feeling Mercutio's hands moving to cup his face, warm in constrast to the cold rings he always wore. He knew it was hard for Mercutio to talk about certain things, and he was probably exhausted right now, with everything that had happened.

“Okay, later,” he finally yielded, “but we _are_ going to talk about it. And this time–”

Mercutio laughed, interrupting him. That made him hiss a bit because of his bruises, but then he laughed again, seemingly uncaring of the pain.

“Ben, please shut up already.”

 

And he kissed Benvolio – eager lips, wicked tongue, curious hands roaming all over his body and unbuttoning his shirt. Overwhelmed, Ben moaned and returned the kiss, his skin burning where Mercutio was touching him. But he soon realized that Mercutio was wincing in pain, too greedy to slow down just because it hurt, so Benvolio softened the kiss. Carefully, he slid his hands under Mercutio's T-shirt, feeling goosebumps there and earning a sigh from him. Benvolio smiled into the kiss.

Soon, Mercutio'd had enough of going slow. He pushed Ben so he lay back on the couch and sat on top of him, mouth going to Ben's chest, kissing and licking there. Slowly, sensually, his lips went up, to his neck and then his cheek. And then Mercutio started laughing, the sound a bit weird thanks to his swollen nose.

“What?” Benvolio asked. He had no idea what he'd done to make him laugh, but, really, one didn't need to do much to make Mercutio laugh.

“I can't believe this is our first kiss and you have a dick on your face,” Mercutio replied with a grin.

Benvolio chuckled, and thought it was not so surprising that their first kiss had happened with one – or both – of them looking ridiculous. They probably made fools out of themselves way too often.

“Well, whose fault is that? And look at you! Your face is bruised and your hair dirty and bloody. Also, I didn't want to tell you, but you smell pretty bad.”

Mercutio's grin turned wild. He playfully nibbled on Benvolio's lower lip and tangled his hands in Ben's curly hair.

“I guess we both need a shower, then. Care to join me?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
